


in the middle of the night

by indecisively_yours



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Captain Swan Storybook 2017, F/M, Once Upon a Captain Swan Storybook, Season 3 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 12:45:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13435002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indecisively_yours/pseuds/indecisively_yours
Summary: Sleep doesn’t come as easily as you’d think.





	in the middle of the night

Sleep succumbs their companions quicker than it does for Killian and Emma. It doesn’t surprise him, how easily the future king and queen find themselves able to relax despite the danger lurking around every corner. Well, the danger that will soon lurk around every corner, once the Evil Queen finds out Snow White’s still a part of the land of the living. **  
**

He’s sort of glad he won’t be around to see the aftermath of that revelation.

They’ve separated themselves into two groups by now; Emma, he, and Marian all rest by the fire while the once and future rulers of the Enchanted Forest rest nearby. It’s not ideal for them to be separated so, not with the threat of being found, but Ruby still in her wolf form helps quell the concern.

“I wish I could do that,” comes Emma’s voice from beside him. He looks up from the burning embers lining the edge of the fire, seeing her nod over to Marian. “Just…sleep like I have no care in the world.”

A small, tight lipped smile forms on his face as he rests his chin atop his fist. “Now, Swan, I’m sure you had your own peaceful sleep the first night you were released from your prison,” he says.

The obvious attempt at lightening up the mood, at distracting her, falls by the wayside as her face falls and her gaze drops to the embers he stared at before. He knows, almost immediately, that he struck a nerve, but she beats him to the punch with a shrug.

“Don’t remember having one,” she answers. Her fingers grip the edges of the cloak wrapped around her, idly twisting the fabric around before letting it go. “When you’re faced with the future before you, or lack thereof, there’s really no time for peaceful sleep. Especially when your first night’s rest happens to be at a halfway home that just reminds you of every crappy thing that happened before that.”

Soft eyes stare out at her as he debates reaching out to her, wonders what kind of comfort he can provide her at a time like this. He opens his mouth, lips forming around reminders that it’s long behind her, when she continues.

“And then you find yourself in jail, again, set to be murdered in the morning by an evil queen that you know isn’t evil anymore, but you can’t think about anything but your parents and how you failed them,” she carries on.

He watches as the grip on her cloak tightens, as the stare at the fire turns into a glare, her words more pointed and yet expansive all the same with each breath she takes.

“And how you failed your son, probably failed him the moment you didn’t take him and drive back to New York the minute the curse was broken and Zelena was defeated,” she tells him.

A twig snaps underneath her feet as she shifts on the log, tension radiating off of her like waves. He stops himself from resting a hand on her shoulder, from snapping her out of all of this, and listens as she continues.

“And how you want to blame this stupid pirate who came knocking on your door to bring you back to them, but despite it all you don’t because he’s turned out to be your only good friend around these parts,” she says.

His eyes widen at that. He expects more to be said, welcomes it to be honest, but she sighs instead and shakes her head. The fingers tightly wrapped around the fabric of the cloak let go, just as her shoulders drop. She smoothes out the fabric, adjusting it over her knees as her eyes soften and tear away from the fire.

“Sorry,” she says with a nervous laugh. He can’t help but relax next to her, blue eyes staring into her brightly shining green ones thanks to the fire. “I didn’t mean to just…unload on you like that.”

“It’s quite all right, Swan,” he says. “I’ll always lend an ear if you need it. A shoulder, perhaps, if you find yourself in need of one of those, as well.”

He takes a chance, throwing caution to the wind and all that nonsense, and rests his hand over his. He can’t provide a sense of warmth, not with her sitting to his left and this wooden prosthetic Rumple’s provided him erring on the side of realism as opposed to usefulness, but he can remind her that he’s there.

He meant what he said to David not so long ago; he’d go to the end of the world for her, or time.

“You really think we’ll make it back?” she asks, voice so soft he almost has to strain to hear it. “That Rumple will just have a way for us to go back to Storybrooke like that?”

He clenches his teeth at the mention of the man. “I don’t trust the bloody Crocodile and I never will, but I promise you, I’ll make sure you return to your boy, Swan,” he says.

If it weren’t for the added weight against his wrist, for the eyes that glisten as they stare up at him, he wouldn’t have noticed her resting her hand over his. Wait, he retracts that statement. When it comes to her, he’ll always notice.

“Thank you,” Emma says.

A tear slips from her eyes. Just like earlier, Killian reaches up and wipes it away, smiling just as a she does the same.

“Of course, Swan,” Killian says.

They sit in silence for a bit longer, hearing the crackling of the fire and the nocturnal animals that seem few and far between. When a yawn escapes her, he ushers her to rest. They lean against the log, his arm used as a cushion for his head, his shoulder used as her pillow, his arm wrapped around her as she tucks herself against his side, while his jacket becomes their blanket for the night.

He knows they won’t talk about this when they get back to Storybrooke, and it’s for the better, really. He’ll add it to the list of many other things they won’t talk about, things he’s been keeping that hopefully won’t see the light of day any time soon.

“Swan?” He pauses, waits to hear her hum of acknowledgement, then continues. “You don’t really think I’m a stupid pirate, do you?”

She snorts, mumbles something of which he can only make out the words, “Memory curse,” then ushers him to fall asleep.

For the first night in a long night, he doesn’t fall asleep thinking about what he did, about the ship he traded for a bean that would take him to the savior, about how he doesn’t regret a thing.

He falls asleep thinking about the savior sleeping against him, about the woman who fell into his life and changed it for the better, about how he still doesn’t regret it, despite being where they are.

That night, he dreams about a future with her—a future back home.


End file.
